


Messy

by Anonymous



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M, No Beta, Porn With Plot, Pseudo-Incest, RIP, a lot of thinking, i think i went a little heavy on the angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 11:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18548746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Jason contemplates the ethics of their relationship in the middle of sex.





	Messy

It was definitely wrong. No one was arguing about that. But still, Jason tried to make it feel _right._

“Baby,” Jason praised, but the word felt stilted. Cheesy, even - enough so that Dick paused minutely on his way of lowering himself down onto Jason. 

“What’d you say?” Dick asked. Jason was sure Dick heard him, and figured this was Dick’s offer of redemption. 

“Nothin’.”

Jason wasn’t sure why they kept at it. Perhaps it was something between habit and pure stubbornness. Also investment. Jason knew investment was important. Not necessarily the good type of investment, but the kind that kept gamblers betting on the same horse, even as it repeatedly lost: a little bit of fondness, maybe, and a lot of fear that the minute you place your money elsewhere, _your_ horse will win. 

“Come on,” Jason said, hands settling on Dicks hips to help move him along. Dick let out a laugh. 

“Chill out,” Dick said, but adjusted to their new rhythm. 

It began like something out of a high school drama. Summer had reached Gotham, and Dick and Jason both found themselves in the same stakeout by the bay. They got bored. Summer drunk was the word Jason liked to use for it. They were summer drunk on the fresh heat that finally hit the city and a little jittery from the hours of waiting. Jason remembered sitting on the edge of a stack of freight crates and seeing the boardwalk ferris wheel illuminated in the distance.

“This is useless,” Jason had said, because the hours were dipping late and not so much as a whisper had crossed the harbor. 

“You gotta be hot in that,” Dick replied, nodding at Jason’s jacket. Jason was, and so he shrugged it off. In hindsight, those were the words and actions that sent them spiraling down into whatever this was.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Jason cursed as Dick drew his hips in lazy figure eights. They were in Bludhaven for the night, or rather Jason was in Bludhaven for the night. It went unspoken, but they both preferred to keep it out of Gotham. For a while, Jason wondered why he felt that way, until ultimately concluding it was some long winded form of not wanting to do it in your childhood bedroom.

(Also, Batman couldn’t know. Batman must never know.)

“Of course it’s good,” Dick said, and their eyes met as Dick formed a crooked grin. The lights were off, the curtains open just enough to paint their skin blue. Jason snorted even as his stomach churned a little. It was an inside joke that neither of them acknowledged outside a passing remark: they didn’t use condoms. Never once. They never considered it either, or asked. They knew the other didn’t have anything.

With his eyes, Jason traced a darker patch of skin along the knuckles of Dick’s left hand - the remains of a scar picked at too many times. Dick had many of those, they both did, but Jason knew exactly where that one came from. It was years old, from the time Dick stayed over at the manor and attempted to prepare a post patrol snack in light of Alfred’s vacation. Jason remembered how surreal it felt then to see the former Robin bustling around in their shared kitchen, piling pizza bagels onto a plate to microwave. Later, Dick dropped the plate and cut his hand, and Jason laughed. 

_Fuck._

Jason shuddered and willed his mind to shift elsewhere. Lists. Jason liked lists. He needed to restock in food sometime, so there were grocery lists - peanut butter, apples, eggs...

“Hey,” Dick frowned, and Jason felt fingers pinching his hip. “You with me?”

Jason grunted and ground his teeth. The unevenness in his stomach had turned into thick acid, and his gums felt sour and sore. He hated the casual tone of Dick’s voice, like he was talking to a teammate, or Tim, or even fucking Damian. 

With a growl, Jason flipped them over, the bed springs squeaking in protest. Dick gave a surprised yelp, but smirked once they settled. 

“Well, this is new,” Dick said. Jason didn’t respond.

Instead, Jason closed his eyes and went fast, and everything became noises. The bed continued squeaking, the headboard thumped against the wall. The sound of skin on skin filled the room, syncing with Jason’s panting and the breaks in Dick’s breaths. He thought he heard Dick laugh a little, and flashes of Dick’s eyes appeared in his head. 

_“Hey, you with me?”_ Dick had asked after Jason took a particularly nasty fall off a balcony and banged his head on a dumpster. Jason remembered dusting off his Robin uniform and pushing away Dick’s hands. 

_“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go.”_

Later that night, Alfred diagnosed him with a concussion. 

“Dammit,” Jason cursed, squeezing his eyes shut further until white danced in his vision. He went even faster, rougher, and Dick’s moans heightened. Blindly, his palm found the side of Dick’s ass and gave it a hard slap. Dick jolted and gave a surprised laugh. 

“Jay?” he heard Dick say. Jason ignored it and gave another slap.

“Come on,” Jason said. Another slap. “Louder.”

Jason thought of that night at the harbor, on top of all of those freight crates. He wondered what he was thinking as he unbuckled his belt, watching Nightwing sink to his knees. They were bored, but surely not that bored. Not enough to break whatever fragile bond of brotherhood they’ve constructed over the past few years. Jason wasn’t even sure if he’d go that far with Kori or Roy. Certainly not with anyone else he was legally related to. 

_The masks,_ Jason thought. The masks definitely tricked him. Because if Jason knew that somewhere down the line they’d remove their dominos, that now everytime Jason looked into Dick’s eyes he’d see at once the person he was fucking and the guy who spent the last four years trying to be his brother again, Jason would have fucked off. 

Or at least, he hoped so.

“Jason,” Dick said again, voice half caught in a moan, but Jason hardly heard it. Instead, his thoughts drifted back to that night, after they left the harbor with no intel. Dick, apparently, left for Bludhaven while Jason retreated back to his safehouse. It was in bed, staring up at the soundproofing ridges of the ceiling, that it really hit Jason what they’d just done. 

_Julie and Mark_ , Jason remembered thinking of and thought of again. It was a random point Roy had brought up once when they were beyond bored on a ten hour flight. _“It’s one of those ethical thingys, you know? Like killing baby Hitler, except it’s Julie and Mark, a brother and sister who do the dirty one night. But here’s the thing: Julie’s on birth control, Mark wears a condom. They both thought it was fun, and agree to not do it again. Hell, it made them closer. So, technically, where’s the harm in that?”_

Jason had no response, and he still didn’t. Not one he could put into words, anyway. 

In the middle of his thoughts, Jason realized something was touching his face. Fingers. There was still the sound of skin slapping against skin, of the headboard against the wall, and his own fierce panting, but Dick was quiet. 

Jason opened his eyes. 

Dick was staring at him, blue eyes sad. His body wasn’t moving with Jason anymore, simply letting Jason’s momentum rock him. His fingers were brushing against Jason’s cheeks even though Jason felt no tears in his eyes. Jason recognized that look. He’d received that look dozens of times, although they’ve decreased since Jason brought himself back into the fold, back into the family.

At once, Jason felt all the anger and strength rush out of him, leaving him tired and cold. His hips slowed gradually until they weren’t moving at all.

“What’s wrong,” Jason asked. Dick’s fingers trailed down to Jason’s shoulders, tracing scars. Jason wondered if Dick knew where they were from.

“I don’t know,” Dick said. A pause. “I’m tired.”

Outside, a breeze blew past, rustling the window screen.

“Fine. Let’s sleep.”

“Okay.”

And just like that, Jason pulled away. Dick scooted over towards the right side of the bed, curling in upon himself as Jason took the left. Jason stared up at the ceiling, not daring to move, not daring to breathe. He listened to the sound of late Bludhaven traffic below, distant and muffled. His nails dug into his palms. 

“M’cold,” Dick said after a while, voice breaking through the quiet. Jason shifted onto his left side, staring at Dick’s back. 

“Your cold?” Jason repeated. It was the height of summer. Late July. Dick had most of the covers, not to mention he tended to run hot regardless, but Jason figured Dick was throwing him lifeline.

“Yeah,” Dick said, and Jason moved closer, feeling their heat enclose upon each other as his chest pressed against Dick’s back. Gradually, Dick’s breaths softened, shoulders relaxing. Up close, he smelled like sweat and nothing. Jason’s eyes trailed down to the exposed part of Dick’s thigh, where there was an angry red handprint. By morning, it would either have bruised or faded completely.

Jason closed his eyes.


End file.
